Every Step You Take
by emmabirdy
Summary: When an unfortunate incident with a old chest lands Germany in the hospital with a head trauma, he begins to remember strange things about the past and who he may once have been. Based on the theory that Germany is actually the Holy Roman Empire. Eventual GerIta.
1. Chapter 1

_Title: Every Step You Take_

_Pairing(s): Germany/N. Italy_

_Rating: T for some swearing, violence and possible alcohol._

Nobody knew that he remembered.

No, Prussia had always been careful about that topic. He'd become good, when Italy and his brother came to dinner together, at dragging it back to the taste of the food or another awesome story about his many successes that always earned him an eye-roll from Germany. The topic of Holy Rome would come up without fail, and he'd grown used to it.

But recently, it had been making him guilty.

It happened mostly at night in his bedroom. There was an old, slightly faded photograph sitting atop his dresser of everyone at Austria's house for a visit, some party ages ago. The picture was a gift from Hungary, shortly after Holy Rome's "death". Her lovely green eyes lingered in his, filled with sadness, while she spouted some crap like, "he was such a brave little boy," or "at least he died a glorious death". Prussia had wanted to say something comforting, but the words stuck in his throat and all he could choke out was a "thanks".

Everyone seemed pretty happy in the photograph, except for Austria of course, but it's the two smallest children that he fretted about. Holy Rome is standing next to Italy, blushing as per usual, but overall looking pretty content.

_He's really stupid_, thinks Prussia. _He can't even remember the love of his life._

It made him think about how he'd rescued Holy Rome. Still a little thing back then, beaten up, couldn't even remember his name. He was lucky Prussia had been walking by right at that moment or the small nation would've been a goner.

He looked after the still-childlike country, of course. It took months of tentative care for him to recover. One night, when his condition had finally begun to improve, he had walked into the kitchen in his oversized pajamas.

"Ah, Holy Rome!" Prussia had begun, looking up from whatever he'd been reading. "Is everything okay? Are you thirsty or something?"

"My name is Germany," the child had said definitively.

Everything changed after that brief conversation. The little black cape and gold-trimmed hat were gone; Germany wanted more "mature" clothes. His voice became harder and more set, and his accent was…different. The small guest room Prussia had given him was always much cleaner than even Prussia had ever kept it.

For years Prussia had been unsure of what to do. When France came to break the news that Holy Rome had vanished, everyone thought dear Holy Rome was dead. It caused him physical pain to think of how Italy had sobbed, cries of how he'd always promised to come back before Hungary carried him away. Austria too felt incredibly guilty, shaking his head and gripping the arm of his chair. Though Prussia wished he had not been visiting at that particular moment, he was grateful he hadn't been the one to bring the bad news.

Germany grew up and left with hardly a backwards glance to his foster brother. They talked on the phone occasionally, but Prussia was too "immature" and "irritating". He'd been ecstatic when Germany met Italy, hoping there might be some exciting remembrance like in a fairy tale. He supposed Germany had changed a lot spending time with his newfound friend, but when Italy would tell fond stories about Holy Rome over dinner, there would be no flash of recognition in Germany's face, no inclination for Italy to go on.

No, life went on like this, wars came and went.

Prussia's train of thought was interrupted as the black taxi slows to a stop at a traffic light.

_München Hospital: 2 kilometers._

Earlier that day, Prussia had been doing some paperwork at home when the phone had rung.

"Hello, the awesomest Prussia he-,"

"Prussia. I have serious news." Austria's voice sounded even more harried than usual.

"Did West screw something up?"

"He was cleaning out his attic, and-,"

"Not that it really needs any cleaning," Prussia said.

"Will you just be quiet and let me finish! He was cleaning out his attic, and something large fell on top of him. It was very lucky I was there."

"That's weird. He knows where everything is in his house."

"I don't remember quite what it was – oh, some kind of old chest or dresser. The wood was splintering so they are making sure he didn't get any infected wounds. It's locked so – hold on," Austria pulled the phone away and yelled something.

_Old chest_. Prussia's eyes widened in horror. Filled with panic, he yelled into his receiver: "It was locked? Was it green with some old paint on it?"

"Is it even relevant? Just get over to the München hospital as soon as you can!" Austria hung up the phone.

_This is all my fault, _Prussia thought. _Why did I ever put that chest up there? He'd never have remembered anyway._

There were a few flashing blue and red lights around the hospital as the taxi pulled up in front. Prussia threw the correct fare at the taxi driver and pulled open the door, almost falling onto the icy pavement in his haste.

"Get out of the way!" Prussia yelled, shoving people aside. "I need to see my brother!"

Finally finding his way to the door, he ran into the quiet lobby and tore up to the receptionists' desk. "I need to see We- Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt."

The secretary's eyes moved lazily down to her computer. "That'll be under B, Be…"

"He's the patient that just came in. With all the ambulances and stuff outside." Prussia struggled to keep his voice even. The woman at the desk appeared not to have heard him and continued her slow search.

"THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!" Prussia yelled.

"I've got him," said a familiar voice, grabbing his arm. "Come _on_, Prussia."

Austria led the way down a sickly white corridor full of fluorescent lights. "The doctors say he will probably be fine," Austria said. "Even so, he will need to stay a while in the hospital."

"Does he look alright? Have they diagnosed him with any diseases? Tetanus?"

"God, Prussia, no," Austria said with a sigh. "He doesn't have anything serious. It's a minor concussion. He passed out and – well, you know Italy," said Austria. "He wouldn't leave your brother alone for a second. I called Hungary to tell her and she said she's on her way."

Prussia let out a breath of relief. _Now I'll just have to destroy that little chest of mementos before anyone notices._ However, Austria wasn't finished.

"The doctors are rather worried, though. He can't remember any of his childhood, or what we consider childhood anyway. Head trauma can cause amnesia, but they say it would usually apply to information learned in the past year, so they are baffled," Austria said. Adjusting his glasses, he turned on the albino and said "Did you know anything about this beforehand?"

Prussia froze midway through climbing a stair. "No, not at all. Westy never tells me anything, you know that." He gave a short nervous laugh, but Austria didn't seem to notice.

"Still…it is confusing. As I did not know him as a child, I could not say…" Austria frowned and tapped his arm impatiently. "I do wish this place had a piano."

The two nations lapsed into silence. Before long, they arrived in a quieter waiting room. "The doctor will tell us when we can see him," Austria said, gesturing for Prussia to sit down.

"Where's Italy?" Prussia asked.

His companion rolled his eyes. "He made such a fuss when they tried pry him off Germany that for the sake of the other patients in the ward, they just left him in the room. I think he's sleeping."

Prussia slumped into an upholstered chair next to the aristocratic nation. He knew well enough that while head trauma could make people forget things, it could also bring up long-lost memories.

_How am I going to get out of this one?_


	2. Chapter 2

It had been an ordinary day around Germany's house. Austria was sitting downstairs reading a book and Italy was making pizza, humming idly under his breath as he put the pie in the oven.

Craving company, Italy had remembered Germany saying something about cleaning his attic and skipped off to find him.

"Germany! Germany! Where are you?"

However, upon arriving at the top, Italy was greeted with a frightening sight.

Germany was pale and slumped backwards over an old-looking, green chest that looked like…his old toy box? Panic rose in Italy's throat. Hurrying over to Germany's side, he shook his friend frantically, but the blonde remained unconscious.

Italy screamed.

While trying to calm Italy down, Austria called an ambulance. "Come on, Italy, get in the taxi." Italy was sobbing onto the unconscious Germany's shirt and refusing point-blank to let go, so the paramedics finally allowed him to stay in the ambulance, being used to this sort of behavior.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Italy still had a vice grip on the blonde nation, and though having all but lost his voice; he shook his head violently at being asked to wait with Austria. Austria tried to pull him off of the stretcher, looking a bit like a parent trying to take a child away from candy. The paramedics joined in and eventually Italy was persuaded to get out.

"It'll be okay, Germany," Italy whispered hoarsely, running alongside the stretcher and holding his hand. Eventually, when he could run no longer, he let the tears come as he fell to his knees in the corridor.

The paramedics had to admit though they had seen many types of people in their time working at München hospital, none could quite compare with this determined friend (Lover? Relation?) of the newest patient.

"Italy. Italy?"

A blurry face appeared into the brunette's peripheral vision. _Austria?_

His second thought was to wonder why he was sleeping in his clothes, and then wonder why it was dark outside. With a start he remembered Germany and looked wildly around the hall.

"Italy, please get up. I will not have you sleeping in a hospital corridor. Think of all the germs."

"C-can we see Germany?" Italy whimpered.

Austria pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes. Let's go see him now."

"Germany!" Italy sniffled, finally permitted to see his friend.

His friend raised his head groggily at the shout.

"Italy?" said Germany.

"Oh Germany, I was so worried about you! I thought you'd-you'd…" Italy fought back the tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

"Wh-what happened?"

"I-I think a chest fell on your head when you were in the attic." Italy said.

"What the hell?" Germany muttered.

"Do you feel okay? I was really really worried about you!" Italy said, giving him a tight hug.

"I'm just a bit dizzy and sore. I've felt worse." Suddenly, Germany looked into the brunette's face and his eyes unfocused for a minute.

"Germany? Germany?" Said Italy in alarm. He shook his friend lightly.

Germany blushed and shook his head gently. "Sorry, Italy. It's nothing. Thank you for, uh…finding me."

"I'm really happy you're okay," said Italy, giving him a soft smile.

Just then, the door opened and Austria, Prussia and a doctor walked in. "You're awake! Thank god," Austria sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Prussia, however, was less easily reassured and hurried over to Germany's bedside.

"Bro! You're not looking too hot!"

The doctor stepped forward with a small brown clipboard.

"Now, Ludwig, you remember all of these people?"

"Yes. My brother Gilbert, and these are Roderich and Feliciano." He said, gesturing towards each of them in turn.

"How do you feel on a scale of one to ten?"

Germany winced. "Maybe a six?"

The doctor nodded and made a few notes on his paper. "Now, we need to test the impact of the accident on your early childhood memories. Who was your best friend when you were young?"

Germany's brow furrowed, as though he was trying to remember something just beyond his grasp. It reminded Italy of when Germany was trying not to become impatient with him.

His friend's face returned to normal. "Well, I believe my only friend was my brother," he said. "Though…I think there may have been someone else once…"

"Can you elaborate?" the doctor asked, tapping his foot. Italy thought Prussia looked nervous and had started shuffling his feet.

"I must have been quite young. My memory is not clear. That is all I can recall at the moment." Germany said.

The doctor's brow furrowed, and he scribbled something onto his clipboard. "Can you tell me of any other significant childhood events? Parties, schools?"

The patient shook his head definitively. "And you have no history of other head traumas?" the doctor asked.

"My brother says I got in a bit of fight when I was small," Germany said lightly. "I suppose it might be possible."

The doctor looked baffled. "Must've been quite the fight," Italy caught him mutter under his breath. "Very well," the doctor said, straightening. "I don't understand why or how you've lost your childhood memories, but I think you will be alright to go home in a day or two."

A few hours later, Hungary arrived at the hospital, apologizing that she hadn't been able to come until now. She and Italy sat in the waiting room with Austria, whom Hungary had convinced to eat something and then take a short nap in an empty room a few doors down.

"It was super scary, Miss Hungary," Italy said through a mouthful of cake. He felt a lot better after he had told Hungary of everything that had gone on since the accident and eaten a number of small pastries. The brunette stifled a yawn and glanced towards the room where Austria was currently resting.

"It's amazing how you made Austria go to sleep like that! He doesn't really listen to anyone else," Italy said.

Hungary smiled. "There was just no one else here to tell him to rest, I think. It's been quite the day."

"He wouldn't even listen to the doctor, though. I think he likes you, Miss Hungary!"

A light blush covered her cheeks and she hurriedly offered Italy another biscuit.

"Italy dear, I understand you are upset about all this, but I think you would feel better if you stopped wriggling around and tried to get some sleep."

Italy murmured an apology and attempted to lie still. Austria had been sleeping like a baby for a number of hours in the makeshift dormitory for the four nations. Prussia, after making a number of rude jokes and arguing with Hungary for what Italy thought could've been a solid half-hour, had also eventually drifted off to sleep. He was snoring rather loudly.

"Italy, is something bothering you?" Hungary's voice startled him a second time.

Italy rolled himself up in his blanket. "I'm just…worried. About Germany. He's been so strange lately…and why was my toy chest was in the attic?"

Italy could just make out a smile on Hungary's face through the darkness. "Germany will be just fine, I'm sure of it. And I don't know why your toy chest was up there, but…" she trailed off. "Well, it's not important."

"Okay." Italy sighed. Then he added, "Can you sing to me?"

"Of course," she said. Hungary began to hum. Italy didn't know what all of the words meant, the language was an ancient one, but the tune was still beautiful.

Italy eventually began to drift off. He dreamed of his childhood and the Holy Roman Empire. He'd had the dream before, but he still cried as his love turned to face him, smiled, then faded slowly away.

Author's notes: Sorry for the long delay in updating! Life unfortunately got in the way, my eyes were unfortunately not cooperating either (got glasses, finally, dear god). Thank you for all the favorites and follows too, lovey-notions!

As I forgot to mention these two dears in the first chapter, I would like to shout out first to **ChocolateTurnip** for being my fantastic beta-tester. Thanks for putting up with me ;) You make my writing at least a thousand times better.

Also, thanks to one of my famed "real life" friends, **snowydaystarlight**. Though she doesn't update her page much anymore on here, I would just like to say thank you! For listening to the somewhat awkward "So, I went against your wishes and watched Hetalia, and well, I like Hetalia" conversation, the subsequent ship discussion (I tried to play it so cool about liking your old OTP, but I'm really not that cool). Explaining this story to you and sending it to you as I sweated profusely and nearly strangled myself, and then telling me to go get up and write the rest. You're the reason it's here!


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